We wake and get some reasonable breakfast. Still can’t get an extra night at the Stanley - Cara sleeps some more and I go on foot through the city following the railroad.

I find the old (now disused) station covered in great graffiti with years of junk mail flowing out of its postboxes. A beautiful art-deco thing fallen to ruin. Such a city - so much graffiti, so ghetto, so old - as soon as you leave the beaten track there are abandoned businesses and buildings. Broken, beautiful.

On my way back I accidentally walk through the weekly farmer’s market - I later discover this is a famous event. Lots of folk selling all kinds of fresh goods - mostly fruit and vegetables but also nuts, home-made wine, fish and meat.

The place is crazy - every vendor yelling in greek - people from every social stratus poking and squeezing and tasting the produce (often while negotiating a price in greek). It’s pretty hectic - I walk and take shots from the hip.

I get back home - still no room at the inn so I book the lux business hotel next door, get Cara going and, and hit the subway to the Athen’s gardens.

We see the tomb of the unknown soldier (pretty bas relief) below the hellenic parliament which is guarded by soldiers in traditional costume - skirts, tights, boots with squirrelly tails attached and unfortunate hats with long tassels. Only a real man could wear such a uniform with pride.